“Oh, it’ll make a big difference, Laura, I can tell you,” he was concluding. “All the difference in the world.” “All the difference in the world,” repeated Laura after him. “There’s that expedition——” he burst out again as, his impedimenta shouldered and the greasy luncheon-papers tucked down a rabbit hole, they walked home together through the deep lanes. “You know—it’s still a possibility. Bellew promised me the first refusal, though I’ve practically told him I couldn’t manage it. And yet—to miss such a chance! But now—once we’re married—eggs! Think of it, Laura! Up and down every cliff from Lundy to the Orkneys—with Bellew. _Bellew!_ I tell you he knows more about birds than any man in England. Wish I weren’t such a rotten sailor, but that’s a detail.” He drew a deep breath. “And I haven’t any gulls yet, you know. Remember those specimens at old Greets’ sale? I’m glad now I didn’t buy ’em. Not the same—bought stuff. But to sweat up a cliff in a gale, hanging on by your teeth and your toe-nails to get at a nest yourself, with the fat old mother-bird not knowing enough to get out of your way—some’ll let you lift them right off before they’ll budge, you know—that’ll be sport! Wish you could come.” “Wish I could. Oh, Justin—I suppose I couldn’t?” “Oh, no—it’s not a woman’s show,” he amended hastily. “It means roughing it, you know. But when I get back,” he consoled her, “you shall do all the classification. And honestly, Laura—it’ll be jolly nice knowing you’re at home to come back to. There’ll be a heap to do, sorting, and printing photographs. By the way, you’d better keep my letters. They’ll be useful to refer to.” “Yes, Justin,” said Laura, as one instructed. If her thoughts turned for an instant’s satisfied inspection of a certain locked box in a certain locked drawer of her dressing-table, her smile gave no hint of it to Justin. And Justin’s mother was not there. Thus ran their love-talk on that first afternoon, as they wandered home together. But even when they reached Green Gates, and Laura stood on one side of them and he on the other, Justin found it difficult to tear himself away. Between his eggs and his engagement he was nearer excitement than Laura had ever known him. But Laura, too absorbed in him to listen to him at all, had grown quiet, so quiet that at last even he must notice and be concerned. “Don’t you think so, Laura? Laura! I say, Laura, is anything up?” “Oh no, Justin.” He took her hand, awkwardly, through the bars of the gate, with that look of boyish, embarrassed kindliness that could always make Laura, at least, give and forgive him anything. “I say, old girl—it is all right? You are pleased too? You think it’s a good idea?” “The expedition?” “Oh—that too! But this notion of our getting married?” She looked up at him. “It’s made me awfully happy, Justin.”